All the Things I Cannot Do
by ForbiddenDreams13
Summary: While out in the Citadel with Shepard, Edi watches the children, and is confused when she finds herself longing for a child of her own.


Up, down. Up, down. The human child bounced her ball off the floor of the converted holding dock. Edi watched the girl play with her toy, her brain analyzing the child. Heat signatures registered normal, her lowered head and repetitive movements suggested either a full focus on her ball or an absent-minded play that served only to distract from the horrors to which this child had borne witness. Which one was it? Edi couldn't be sure. Both options were valid. She turned her head from the little girl and scanned the refugee camp for Shepard. She'd come down here to notify a Batarian priest she'd found the artifact he needed. Edi hadn't needed to be present for such a mundane trip, but she figured it would be a good opportunity to observe how non-military organics reacted to situations of high stress. Or so she had said. In reality, Edi just wanted to explore more of the Citadel. Purgatory and the Commons were both rich with their own area of study, but they did not provide the wide array of emotional feedback she was currently interested in. Emotions fascinated her. None more so than grief. She wasn't sure it was such a good thing to find reaction to loss intriguing, but at the same time, her study would help her avoid potential faux pas with her organic squad mates as well as better enable her when it came to comforting them. She'd tried to help Garrus, but her assurances of Turian military might through bringing up several vicious battles in the First Contact War had just made him uncomfortable. A reaction that might have had something to do with his relationship with Shepard.

Her tactile sensors alerted her to something soft bouncing against her foot. Edi glanced down to see a rubber ball nestled against her toe. Curious, she bent down and picked it up. Durable, but not unyielding, the material from which it was made (rubber, her brain told her), reminded her of Vega's muscles when relaxed. The ball was a solid shade of bright red. It measured seven inches in diameter. Small for her hands, but perfect for a young child's. She shifted it between her hands, the quantum computer inside her steel and silicon skull relaying every single scrap of information it could glean from this simple child's toy. Placing it between both hands, she let it drop to the floor as the child had done. No feedback. Perhaps the little girl had been trying to distract herself from some hideous memory. Edi knelt down and picked it back up. She looked around the camp. Distraction or not, the child would not like losing her toy. Edi glanced in the direction she'd seen Shepard take. Nothing. Either she was still talking with that priest, or she was doing something else. Either way, Edi found herself on her own. Not that she minded. This would be her first time interacting with children. She looked forward to it.

As she strode through the crowd of tired, hungry, frightened organics, Edi studied every aspect she could. Their faces, their body language, the words they spoke. Fear and despair ruled for the most part, a melancholy pair of monarchs controlling their subjects from within their black castle of pain. Edi registered the sobs, whimpers, and heartfelt wails of those around her. She noticed most of the cries belonged to children. She scanned the crowds, looking for the girl to whom the ball belonged. So many of them were young. The Reapers didn't care. Man, woman, old, young, if the Reapers caught them they would be killed or processed. The Reapers were indiscriminate, so very much like the death they brought upon organics. Number surged through her brain. An average planet held around seven billion people, give or take a hundred thousand or more depending on size, population growth (or death) rate, and number of suitable living environments. She counted only fifty-five children in the docking area. It sickened her.

Her sensors registered a light tapping on the back of her right leg. Edi glanced back. Behind her stood the little girl who'd been bouncing the ball. Wide blue eyes stared up at the AI's physical unit. Edi turned and smiled at the little girl.

"Hello." She knelt down and offered the ball to her, "I found your ball. Would you like it back?"

The little girl nodded and held out her hands. Edi chuckled and handed the ball back to her. She took back her ball and grinned up at Edi. Wave upon wave of positive feedback fed into her processors. She wondered if this was how Shepard felt when she helped someone.

"Ella?! Ella, where are you?!"

Both Edi and the girl turned their heads in the direction from where the sound had come. The child's eyes lit up upon recognizing her mother's voice.

"Mommy!" She called.

A woman burst through the crowd, knocking aside a Salarian in the process. He spat a profanity at the woman, but she either didn't hear him or ignored it. Her eyes zeroed in on the location of her daughter's voice, instinctively scanning low. When she saw her daughter, she rushed over.

"Ella, thank God!" The woman swooped down, engulfing her child in a tight hug. Edi rose to her feet and watched. Strange. Something felt…odd. It wasn't the scene before her. The mother was displaying typical behavior. Rather, something insider her felt off. A feedback loop that couldn't be registered as positive or negative. It baffled her. The mother placed her child back down on the ground. The child, Ella, brandished her ball like a prize winning trophy.

"Look, Mommy! My ball!"

"I see that!" The mother replied, her smile having more to do with her found daughter, than said daughter's rediscovered toy.

"The nice lady found it and gave it back to me!" Ella exclaimed, pointing to Edi.

"Oh? And who's-" The woman turned toward Edi, the rest of her sentence falling short. Edi expected this. While the girl's innocent, naïve mind would no doubt see Edi as a woman who just happened to look blue and sound funny, her mother would no doubt deduce Edi's actual role as a synthetic. The important question was whether or not she was able to realize that Edi was not a simple mech, and what she would do about it upon discovery. The woman looked Edi up and down, her eyes crawling over every detail of Edi's body. Such an action felt…intrusive and uncomfortable. True, the woman was only trying to deduce whether the synthetic in front of her was friend or foe, but it didn't make Edi feel any better. In the end however, the woman gave Edi a warm smile.

"Thank you." She turned to her daughter, "What do we say to the nice lady Ella?"

"Thank you nice lady!" Ella chirped. Edi smiled.

"You welcome."

Ella shifted her ball from her hands to under an arm and reached out a hand for her mother. Her mother clasped her daughter's tiny hand in her own and the two made their way back to their group. Edi watched them go. The mother said something to Ella, who in turn grinned and nodded. The strange feedback played through her yet again, and still she could not identify it. She ran through her stored knowledge on human emotions, trying to find an organic name she could match it to. She came back with one result: longing. Edi frowned. Longing? What could she be longing for? She took another look at the retreating forms of mother and daughter. They were almost on the other side of the refugee camp. Sensing eyes on her, Ella turned. She smiled and waved when she saw Edi. Edi waved back. The feedback of longing blasted through her CPU again. She turned away, looking elsewhere in an attempt to stop the long running script of synthetic emotion. Everywhere she turned however, she saw children. By the medical station, a young Turian boy sniffling as a doctor treated his skinned knee. Up in the bunkers, some asari children playing tag. And on the benches, a human boy dozed in his mother's lap, exhausted from the long shuttle ride. Edi shook her head. It didn't fit. Why would she feel this way? She wasn't organic. No matter if or how much she desired it, she could never have children. Her physical body had not been designed for that. Nor was any physical body for a synthetic, she was willing to bet. It was something she would not be able to do. She was not organic.

But Jeff was.

The thought brought her up short. Organics preserved their genes by copulating and passing them on to the offspring that resulted from copulation. Regardless of what Shepard told her, that instinctive behavior was embedded into every organic brain. Jeff was organic. He also subconsciously desired to pass on his genes. He couldn't do that with her. Edi placed a hand to her breast. Instead of the warm, soft flesh of organics, her sensors registered the feel of cool, smooth metal.

She could not give Jeff a family. She would never know what it would be like to raise children of her own. The thought somehow made her feel less. She knew such thoughts were foolish, but she couldn't help it. As a synthetic, Edi was physically perfect. She did not age, did not contract illnesses, and could even self-heal in battle if the injury was not too great. Still, all that perfection didn't change how much she would be missing out on. Edi looked out the crowd. For the first time since gaining awareness, she wished she could have been born a human.

"Hey. There you are."

Edi whipped around. Commander Shepard stood behind her, back straight and arms locked behind her back, the typical stance for a soldier. Edi wondered why the Commander was taking the position with her, but supposed some habits were hard to break.

"Hello Shepard," Edi replied, "I take it you have finished your task?"

Shepard nodded, "Yeah. The priest was thrilled to have the artifact back. He feels he can now give his people both a reason to fight and a reason to hope."

"That is good."

"Indeed," The Commander agreed. She turned to walk back towards the elevator. Edi followed. The Turian guard nodded to the two of them as they stepped in. The door slid shut and they were on their way to the hangar. Shepard leaned back again the wall, "So, what were you up to while I was gone?"

"Oh, nothing much. A child lost her ball. I found it and gave it back to her."

"Oh?" Shepard smiled, "That was sweet of you."

Edi nodded. She thought about the child and her mother. Of the strange feeling of longing she experienced when she looked at them. Of the desire to be human. She opened her mouth to ask Shepard, but snapped it shut before so much as a single syllable could pass her parted lips. No. She didn't want to talk to Shepard about it. Such thoughts were already making her feel strange enough, she didn't want to pile on the Commander's confusion. Plus, Shepard was dealing with plenty already. An AI with an identity crisis would certainly complicate things aboard the ship. Best for her to keep mum about it for the time being.

The elevator ride to the docking bay continued in silence, stopping when they'd reached their destination. The door slid open and Shepard stepped out, Edi following close behind. The two women trotted down the corridor and back to the Normandy. Once on the ship, they went their separate ways. Edi to the cockpit and Shepard…well, Shepard went somewhere. If Edi had to guess she would say the Commander went to see Garrus. After solidifying her relationship with the Turian, Shepard sought out his company on numerous occasions. Which she only knew due to the numerous collection of vids Jeff had collected. He claimed to be getting evidence in case someone tried to slander their leader as anti-alien again, but Edi had her doubts. Not that she would voice anything to Shepard. The woman put up with a lot, but she might just toss Jeff out of the airlock if she found out. Or just lightly shove him into a wall. Either way, secrecy was best for all partied involved.

Edi climber back into her seat and reopened the weather reports she'd been looking at prior to her outing on the Citadel. A few solar storms here and there, but nothing in the path of the Normandy. As long as they stayed out of those areas, they'd be fine.

"So, how was the Citadel?"

Jeff's voice cut in on her observations. She glanced over at him. While his eyes were riveted on the console in front of him, Edi knew all his focus was directed on her. Every button on that console was burned into his brain. The man could fly the ship blindfolded. Which he'd tried to do on occasion. Much to the entire crew's panic. It took Edi several minutes of convincing plus two incredibly detailed grisly scenarios to make Jeff see that too much self-confidence was not a good thing.

"It was fine." She responded.

This time Jeff did look away from the console, "'Fine'?" he echoed. "That's it? Nothing enlightening about the human experience? No exciting new insight into the existence of organics?"

Edi pursed her lips. Part of her wanted to tell Jeff about what she had felt in the refugee camp. After all, they were in a relationship, and protocol dictated you told your significant other about things that made you feel down. On the other hand, she didn't want him worrying about her. Or worse, think she was being stupid.

"No. Nothing new." Edi said. She kept her voice monotone so as not to betray the emotional maelstrom swirling within. So many loops and stings of code thrashing about in her CPU. She didn't understand it. None of it made any sense. She knew she should be fascinated by such an intriguing development, but instead of cool, calculated study, a burning frustration hissed in the back of her mind. Why couldn't she grasp what she was feeling? Furthermore, _why_ was she feeling this way? The longing for children, the desire to be human, the bitter anger at her inability to grasp her own conflicted mental state. It was so…so… So stupid!

"Edi? Are you okay?"

She snapped her head in Jeff's direction. Concern knitted Jeff's brows together and pulled his lips downward in a frown.

"I'm fine," she snapped, "why?"

Jeff blinked, shocked. "Well, first of all, that," he said, indicating Edi's harsh tone. "And second, you're gripping your chair hard. Like, really hard."

Edi glanced down at the armrests. Sure enough, she was squeezing them so hard, her fingers were leaving indents in the leather. She released her death-grip on the poor chair and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and laced her hands beneath her chin. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"I don't know Jeff. It's just…" she trailed off. She could sense Jeff's concern growing. She wasn't surprised. If her mind wasn't in turmoil, she might have been worried about herself too. This behavior was quite unlike her after all. She opened her eyes and looked over to her partner. Jeff had turned his chair around and was looking right at her. He nodded at her to continue. Edi looked down at her lap.

"I saw a child today. A little girl. She was playing with a ball, bouncing it up and down. I watched her play with it for a little while. Then, she lost her ball. I found it, and gave it back to her. The little girl was very pleased to get her toy back. Her mother showed up a short while later."

Jeff bristled, "She didn't say anything to you, did she?"

Edi smiled. Jeff was so sweet. Shaking her head, she replied, "No. The child's mother was kind to me. She had her daughter thank me and the two of them went on their way. But that's not the issue." Edi paused, narrowing her eyes, "I…I felt strange as I watched them retreat back into the crowd. I tried looking elsewhere, but everywhere I turned, I saw more children, which only served to intensify the feeling." She fell silent once more, unsure of how to continue. She was reaching the meat of the problem, faster than she'd anticipated, and now she found herself feeling nervous. As ridiculous as it was, she hoped Jeff would not chastise her for what she was about to reveal.

"What do you mean, felt strange?" Jeff asked.

Edi bit her lip. She looked over at Jeff. _Relax,_ she told herself, _this man cares about you. He wants to hear what you have to say._ With that small bit of pep-talk under her belt, Edi looked her partner right in the eye.

"What do you think about children Jeff?"

Jeff's eyes went wide. "I-I…Uh, well… I… Wh-What do you mean. Edi?" He stammered.

Edi looked down at her body. No matter how human she looked, she wasn't human. Her body was made of metal. Her nerves were copper wire, her brain was a CPU, her bones were coated in an aluminum alloy that made them far more durable than any organic's in the galaxy. She had no heart, no lungs, no major organs at all. Her body cavity was full of wires and chips. Shoot her in the stomach, and she'd just get right up. She looked back at Jeff.

"I can't have children Jeff. I'm synthetic."

"Well, yeah. I know that."

"But do you know what that means?"

Jeff frowned, "Uh, no I-"

Edi rose from her chair. She walked over to the rear of the cockpit, and closed the door. She leaned her head against it. Her tactile sensors registered the feeling of metal. Metal. So much metal. The ship's body was her body after all. That though alone made her want to punch the door. Metal was not flesh. Metal could not live like flesh. Metal could not be alive as flesh was. Clenching her hands into fists she turned back to Jeff. By now, the pilot had turned his chair a full 180 from its normal position. Every fiber in his body screamed worry over her.

"I'll never be able to give birth to a child. Your child. Ourchild. I say I'm alive, but how alive am I if I cannot create my own life and usher it into the world?" She sagged back against the door. "I don't understand why I feel this way, but the more I try to figure it out, the more upset I become." She bowed her head and waited for Jeff to reproach her. Silence. Edi glanced up from the floor and jumped. Jeff stood right in front of her. She hadn't even heard him get up. Before she could say anything, Jeff wrapped his arms around her.

"Jeff, what-"

"It's okay Edi," Jeff said, stroking her hair, or rather the fused solid sheet of metal that acted as her hair. "I don't care that you can't have kids."

She nestled her head in the crook of his neck. Her olfactory sensors registered the sharp, chilled scent of some brand of men's body wash. Edi decided that she liked it. The scent just seemed so…him.

"Besides," Jeff continued, "I wouldn't get so upset over the whole wanting children thing if I were you. Thinking about having kids is normal."

Edi frowned. She broke free of Jeff's embrace and quirked an eyebrow at him, "How is that kind of behavior normal for a synthetic?"

Jeff smiled, "It's normal behavior for any woman."

Edi looked at him. The full weight of his words seeped into her. She could feel a deep warmth penetrating the confusion and despair she'd felt earlier, piercing it like sunbeams through thick, dark clouds. Smiling, she kissed Jeff. His lips were warm, hers cool. It didn't matter. She knew he loved her. She pulled away and returned to her station. Jeff stood in front of the door for a moment, dazed.

"Jeff?" She called.

Jeff whipped around, "I hear ya! I'm good!" He went back to his chair, each step bouncing, "I am so good."

Edi chuckled. As the two of them waited for clearance, a thought struck her. She turned to the pilot.

"Jeff? I might be incapable of having children, but what about adoption?"

Jeff froze. "Well, Edi, you see… That's uh…" he chuckled nervously. Just then, a light on the dashboard flicked green. Jeff pointed to it, "Oh hey! We're cleared for take off! We can have this conversation later."

"Hm. It seems we shall." Edi turned back. Jeff mumbled something. A few commands later, the Normandy was away from the docking bay and out shooting towards the vast depths of space. Edi thought of the struggle that awaited them out there. This war had already cost many lives, and she knew a good deal more were next in line to be thrown into the beast's gaping maw. But they would be there, guns drawn and trained on every enemy they could find. They would fight for the future of organic life. And maybe, when it was all over, she and Jeff could start on their future.

* * *

 **I love Edi. The romance between her and Joker was great. It was the right combination of quirky and cute.**


End file.
